Fake It 'Til You Break It(38)

“You clownin’ on me?”

She chuckles as she pulls away, so I let my arm fall, shifting to face her as we step into the line.

“Maybe I am, D.”

She squints. “Am what?”

“Not miserable.”

She eyes me a second before a small laugh leaves her and she steps up to the order window. As quick as she pays, Demi’s being handed a paper bowl full of deep-fried Oreos covered in powdered sugar.

“I’ll eat as we walk so Krista doesn’t strangle me for being gone so long.” She lifts one of her pieces up, biting into it with a soft moan. “So good.”

We look at each other, and she chuckles.

I’m sure she can see the need in my eyes, while hers only hold a playfulness I enjoy as she covers that sexy mouth of hers that’s still full.

I’d like to fill it up with something else...

“Sorry.” She fights a smile, wiping her mouth, before going in for another bite.

“Moan like that again and—”

The ringing of my phone cuts me off, and I drag it from my pocket to find my dad’s name flashing.

My feet stop moving, tension wrapping around my shoulders as I glare at the screen.

He never calls.

“You can answer that if you need to,” Demi says and I look to her. “I can walk ahead.”

No.

I hit ignore, shoving it in my pocket and fall in place beside her, the two of us heading where we know the others will be.

My dad calls three more times between the walk there and the end of the ride.

We’re back with the group and entering the hotel lobby when it rings again.

“Damn, who’s blowing you up?” Trent whispers. “Is it Josie?”

I scoff and glance around to make sure nobody is in earshot. “It’s my dad.”

“Whoa.” His eyes widen. “Why you think he’s calling?”

I frown. “I don’t know. Could be about my mom, I’m about to try and call her right now. If not that, then it’s about the fight with the fuckhead in the locker room.”

“He’s been watching you guys all day, you know,” he says, referring to Alex.

“Good. Let him think he can take her, it’ll be that much sweeter when she decides she don’t want him.”

“And if he goes in now while she still does, or if she keeps on wanting him, then what?”

I shove my phone back in my pocket, my eyes sliding across the room where Demi is. “Then I find a reason to force her to stay.”

“Blackmail?”

I look to my friend. “If I have to.”

Trent shakes his head with a sigh. “You need to be careful, Nic. For real.”

“I told you to let me worry about this.”

“I’m tryin’, my man,” he says, eyeing me a moment before changing the subject. “You goin’ to your room first or straight over to the party area?”

I look to Demi who laughs, letting go of Carley’s legs so she can slide off, ending the piggyback ride she was giving her.

“D,” I call.

She says something to the girls and heads our way, her long hair laying half over her shoulder. She bumps into Trent, smiling at him briefly when he chuckles.

I frown, pulling her attention back to me. “You goin’ to your room first?”

“Hell yeah. I can’t dance in this thing.” She pats her hips.

“Restrictive attire on the front liner?” Trent teases her.

“I know, right?” She smiles. “Blame Macy. She made me wear it.”

“She make you leave the underwear behind too?” I bite out.

Trent’s eyes go wide, as do hers, and while he clears his throat and walks away, Demi prickles.

She waits until he’s far enough away before she steps toward me. “What the hell was that?”

“Nothing.” I tip my head back. “Shouldn’t have let him in on that.”

My phone starts ringing again, and her eyes fall to my pocket a moment before coming back.

“So why did you then?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Her head tugs back and she opens her mouth to speak but pauses, bringing herself even closer instead. “I’ve never been able to figure you out,” she whispers.

I push against her chest. “You sayin’ you’ve tried, Little D?”

She tilts her chin, observing me with a feisty fire. “I might have answered that if nice Nico was standing in front of me. It’s one thing – still shitty – to be an ass when it’s just the two of us, but in front of others?” She clicks her tongue. “Better work on your attitude if keeping this charade up is important to you.”

My eyes slim. “That the key, playin’ nice?”

She shakes her head, placing her lips a breath away from mine.

“Don’t play,” she whispers. “Be. You’ve got it in you.”

“Yeah.” I place my hands on her hips lazily. “And how would you know, Pixie?”

She slides free of my grip.

“Your mask slipped today,” she tells me. “You’re not what you pretend to be.”

“And what do I pretend to be?”

“Cold and cavalier.” She eyes me as she steps back. “That’s not you, it’s your go-to defense.”